It was very late when they woke again, the moon in a different part of the sky. The country below them was quiet.
"I think that is quite enough sleep," Alistair said, feeling her stir. "We've been together for a day and almost two nights and I've slept through most of it."
"It'll be at least a two day journey to South Reach, we should be well rested for it," she said shifting her weight to help the circulation find its way back to her arm.
"So we'll sleep again later. Maybe in an actual bed," he said.
Suddenly he turned his face away and his body shook with loud coughing. Eva reached for him again, hoping to steady him.
"That doesn't sound good Alistair. And you feel a little feverish."
"It doesn't feel good either. The only thing that feels good is you." he said, running his hands down her back, pulling at the hollow of her waist.
"We should make a stop at the healer's on the way out of town. There must be something they can provide that can help."
"Agreed. But for now I feel rested, and I don't want to waste another moment in sleep when I could be right here."
Before she could respond his mouth was on hers again, hot and urgent.
She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him back forcefully. Their bodies moved together in a dance that seemed both brand new and achingly familiar. She didn't remember the desire being this intense, this overwhelming even their first time, years ago at camp during the blight.
He had come to her back then, after weeks of flirting, stealing the occasional kiss, and fighting side by side, and told her outright that he wanted to be with her. Told her that their uncertain future made him sure that he didn't want to wait another moment, didn't want to take the chance that there wouldn't be an opportunity when everything was over. That little speech that he gave then was played over and over in her head, even well after they were committed and regularly professing their love. Those nights at camp had always retained a special place in her heart. She had been watching him since their first meeting with Duncan, admiring his graceful strength, charming naivete and good humor. Their eyes would meet over the campfire, or during a calm moment on their journies, and they would just look into each other silently, holding eye contact for as long as they dared. They spent their days mired down in such a dark and ominous purpose, but he could open his mouth and out would come something that would cause the clouds to open up and the sun would shine and there would be hope and laughter in the world again. Alistair became everything that was good in the world to her, everything that was worth saving.
She had known that what had been growing inside her was being felt by him too. But their mission was one that promised grave consequences, and Alistair was the son of the King. She didn't know what ties he may have, or obligations that might complicate his availability. But she was so consumed by desire that it made her breathless and desperate. Until he came to her, and confessed his feelings and desires. He blundered through the talk, stumbling on his words and blushing with such a surprising and endearing innocence.
Their first night together had been the absolute zenith of her life up til that point. She had felt herself falling in love with him before then, but that night in the tent turned that ember of infatuation to a blazing, roaring inferno.
That had been topped multiple times since then of course. In fact almost every night together after had been as good or better. Their history had been filled with so many scenes of ecstasy and profound tenderness, that the memories had brought her to her knees on numerous occasions that last two years. Those were the memories that she tried to drown in alcohol and carelessness.
Precisely what he had been doing as well.
But that longing desire that she felt in the camp those years ago paled in comparison to what she was feeling now. She knew what their bodies were capable of doing together, and the intense connection that they found each time they had made love. It was that that made their separation so impossible to bear. She remembered. Every cell in her body remembered him, screamed for him.
Yet something nagged at her. While she wanted to give herself right then and there on the grass, she found that it wasn't that easy. She still had questions that were unanswered, that sat like cold boulders of lead in the back of her mind. The hurt she had endured ran too deep, was too entrenched in her. She couldn't be over it so quickly.
But she didn't have to be the one to pull away, because he did.
He rolled away from her, leaving her whole body throbbing where it lay, as he was once again seized by a deep coughing fit.
When it was over, he was motionless, trying to catch his breath. She sat up, trying to clear her head and calm the river of sensation that rushed through her. She put a hand on his back and felt his heart racing. It was always racing now, working so hard. His poor heart had endured so much.
She moved herself close to him again, and helped him sit upright.
"How long has it been this bad?" she asked.
"I don't know, really," he said. "Part of the whole willful oblivion thing." he joked, but Eva didn't laugh.
He reached an arm out and wrapped it around her waist.
"I honestly never believed this day would come. I didn't prepare for it. I didn't save anything of myself in case you came back," he said.
"Alistair," Eva began, figuring she might as well get her questions out of the way "why did you come to Crestwood, of all places? You didn't know anyone here."
"No but you did. If there was any chance that I would see you again, it would probably be somewhere near people you may one day visit."
Eva nodded.
"So, I mean, I guess I thought that it was my best chance. But, really, deep down I thought you were gone. You were gone. You were gone for so long."
She raised her hand to his cheek, and he leaned into her palm.
"Sally said that you walked in at the end of winter. How could you have done that? There is nothing else around for many miles."
Alistair shook his head. "That… I guess was by the grace of the Maker. I was hungry, tired, everything hurt. But that was really no different than what had become normal. I told you that I was trying to… just not live anymore. But I guess I was too much of a coward to actually, you know, DO something. I was a little disappointed when I eventually arrived. But then I was here, and I have been here since."
"Will you tell me what happened right after I left?" she asked.
"I will. I will tell you." he said. There was a long silence.
"But, can I tell you some other time?" he asked sadly. "I just don't think I have the energy, or the strength to revisit that yet. I know it's been, some time. I actually don't even know how long. But… I just can't." he said.
"Alistair…" Eva started. But in her throat was a huge knot of jumbled emotions that blocked anything else she could think of to say. She tried to collect herself.
"Are you regretting this already?" he asked.
"No," she said softly, pulling him close to her again. Taking his face in her hand and searching the dark shadows of his features. She so wanted to look into his eyes, to trace the familiar lines of his lips.
"I regret that we didn't bring a light," she said. "So that I can look upon you."
"I imagine it's not quite what you remember." he said.
Eva kissed him softly. "You might be a little worse for wear," she whispered as she kissed him again.
"But you're still you." Another kiss. "Still my Alistair," the warm pillows of his lips fit hers perfectly.
He lowered his head to her shoulder, and she ran her lips up and down the smooth surface of his neck, causing him to shiver.
"Did you try to follow me?" she asked.
"Yes. Of course." he said. "But it got me arrested when I stole some girl's horse. I was caught within an hour and spent a week in jail bouncing off the walls. By the time I got out, you were long gone."
She shivered for a different reason this time, as a chill invaded the night breeze.
"It'll be light soon. If we are going to leave at a decent hour we should probably sleep while we can."
"More sleep", he said. "I am going to be the most rested man in Thedas."
She helped him up and they climbed down the outcropping, holding onto each other with each step.
"Alistair the Well Rested is what they'll call me" he laughed. "Oh look at that man over there! He looks like he has slept for an exceptionally long time."
Eva laughed, "Yes, well, let's get you well again and then you stay awake for as long as you want."
"Alistair the Bed Dweller." he continued. "Hide your blankets, lock your houses, leave no bedroom unattended! For one lapse in supervision and you may find your beds occupied by the eternally sleeping man!"
"Very funny Alistair." Eva said through her smile. "They should be so lucky to have you in their beds."
"Well some residents around here might beg to differ on that point. Alistair the Well Rested is certainly better than Alistair the Drunk isn't it?" he said. "Though it's close to the same thing. Either way I'm mostly unconscious. At least if I'm just sleeping I'm less likely to wake up covered in vomit in some alley. That has happened you know."
Eva stopped them in their tracks, turned and took his face in her hands. She looked as deeply into his eyes as she could in the dark night.
"I'm so sorry my love," she said. "I'm sorry you suffered so, and for such a long time. I wish I had come sooner, and helped you."
Alistair's smile faded. "I did it to myself. But you're helping me now," he said seriously, raising a hand to caress her cheek. "Oops, I guess I was wallowing again wasn't I?"
"Come," Eva said pulling him along. "We'll never earn you your prestigious new title if we don't get back to the room."
"Yes, also I wouldn't resist going to bed with you if you paid me to."
"Well I'm fresh out of coin," joked Eva.
"It'd do you no good anyway. Or didn't you just hear what I said? In need of an ear cleaning?"
Later, as the light crept into the room of the Inn, Eva woke once again wrapped in Alistair's arms. She had spent their time in the dark seeing his face in her mind as it had been before they parted, still youthful and full. But the gentle blue glow that grew in the sky outside the window was illuminating the new weariness, and the brutal marks of pain and time on his face yet again.
She studied his face as he slept. His cheekbones were so much sharper, eyes still sunken into purplish sockets. His neck was thinner, lacking that healthy strength that she always admired.
He had a few more coughing fits in his sleep, his lungs rattling with fluid. Eva felt her worry growing.
She could also see in the increasing light the atrocious haircut she had given him. That would need to be corrected if anyone was going to take them seriously.
In time, he woke. His eyelids fluttering open silently. He focused on her face immediately, and she saw the softening in his eyes as he extricated himself from his dream world and registered his new reality. His eyes burned an intense amber. Even if the rest of his face was wan and scarred, the vivid burst of his eyes was an explosion of life.
"I'm still not dreaming?" he asked softly, voice croaking.
"Still not dreaming," she confirmed.
Their embrace tightened and they closed any gaps where their bodies weren't touching. He still felt feverish, and so thin she worried holding him too close might hurt him. But he seemed to have no such concern.
Despite the state of his health, her body responded strongly to their closeness.
She kissed him repeatedly, savoring his warm skin. That musky and delicious natural scent of him filled her senses like a drug. She ran her hands over the places on his body that she used to steal enjoyment from at every opportune moment.
The need for him was growing, pooling up inside her and turning desperate, as the last two years of physical drought reared its ugly head. She hadn't wanted to overwhelm him last night, and she still didn't want to. But she couldn't seem to stop herself now. Their legs were entwined, their bodies pressed hard into each other, teasing ripples of pleasure up her body. What had began as an embrace and a series of caresses had turned into two bodies writhing and pulsing together.
When she slid her hand under his tunic and onto the burning skin of his lower back, he took in a sharp ragged breath that registered between her legs like a bolt of lightning. She felt her self control slipping further and further away. A warm abyss of need opened up and began to swallow her, smothering all her thoughts and leaving nothing but the exquisite sensation of his body moving against hers. His hands dragged themselves over the aching curves of her body, and she opened herself, allowing him to sink deeper against her.
Then his hand was under her tunic as well, his fingers digging into her ribs as he pulled her to him tighter and tighter. Maker's Breath how she had missed his touch. No man that she had ever been with before him or since had compared, not that she had been with many. But still she had sworn that she would recognize his touch alone among thousands, sight unseen. His mouth was urgent, probing, searching her skin, her lips, her neck, trying to devour her. Those luscious lips of his that she had always enjoyed were doing exactly what it seemed they were built to do.
She pulled away for just a moment,
"Are you well enough for this?" she asked him as her body screamed for him, the need for him almost making her quake.
His eyes were dark and intense, also swallowed up by the inferno of desire. He nodded and then rushed back in with his mouth, kissing her with his whole being, with his soul. She felt his heart pounding against her chest as he lay on her, as he enveloped her with his large frame. Suddenly he no longer seemed frail and sick. He was full of vitality and strength as he deftly removed his tunic and slid hers up her body and over her arms.
Immediately his mouth was upon her again, expertly exploring every curve and crevice of her neck, her collarbones, her breasts.
She almost had no recollection of how they had gotten the rest of their clothing off. She only knew that her desire for him had risen to its bursting point at almost the very moment he had finally entered her. They had both cried out at the ecstatic instant of their joining, and then strained together as though no depth within her would be deep enough. They held onto each other with such force that it was almost violent. Eva felt like she wouldn't ever be close enough to him to satisfy her need, not until the cells within their flesh opened up and absorbed each other completely, turning the two of them into a single writhing being. Her body remembered him, and he teased tender pleasure centers within her that hadn't been touched since the last time they had made love. She recalled her belief that the Maker must have sculpted him especially to fit her. Wave after wave of orgasm overpowered Eva, and Alistair's rhythmic rocking built to a crescendo that caused him to cry out as he clutched at her rightly to his heaving chest.
It was over quickly, but they did not come unclasped. They lay in recovery, their bodies still throbbing together. Eva ran her fingers through Alistair's hair as he rested where he collapsed on her chest. She gently stroked his ears, neck and face. Basking in the familiar features of the love that she had lost, drinking in the scent that radiated off his skin. It brought the sting of tears back to her eyes, realizing the full force of how intensely, overwhelmingly she had missed him. How barren and desolate her life without him had been. Tears streamed down her face, hot and large. Suddenly she was within the throes of yet another emotional outpouring. The physical release triggered months worth of despair to come rushing forward.
Alistair held her and let her purge her system yet again. He didn't tell her not to cry or try to calm her down. He simply stroked her hair and held her tight as her body and mind struggled to release the deluge of repressed emotions.
When it was finally starting to lessen, Eva felt her sobs turn to laughter. Alistair eyed her quizzically.
"Shall I fetch a magister? Perhaps an exorcism is in order?" he joked gently.
Eva allowed her laughter to grow, feeling delirious.
"Are we done crying yet?" she asked him.
"Crying and sleeping, crying and sleeping. That does seem to be all we do," he remarked. "Well, and some kissing here and there. And hopefully more of this," he said as he gave her a little squeeze.
"No, but really, I think I am done now," she said. "For today, anyway. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. The last few days have been so… unexpected."
"Alistair the Well Rested and Eva the Emotional Maelstrom. Quite a pair we are." he said.
"As long as we are a pair, I don't really care what we're called."
"Agreed," he said tenderly.
"Alistair, how I have missed you. Words can't even begin to express…"
"I know my love. I know," he said "Me too."